


Oblivion

by dorlgirl



Series: December Drabbles [7]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Pre-Slash, Tiny bit of Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 22:49:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorlgirl/pseuds/dorlgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles worries about his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oblivion

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from [Oblivion](http://youtu.be/PF-_H54mydE) by Bastille.

Stiles worries about a lot of things. That’s just a given. School, his Jeep, the influx of supernatural to Beacon Hills, how much fried food his dad is eating. Few things actually cause him to lose sleep though. Those few things are the safety and happiness of his friends and family. Though maybe he should just call them his family. Every friend he cares about has been pulled into this war, and you can’t fight along side someone without forming a deeper connection than friendship. They’re all his family now, and that makes Stiles worry about them even more.

He’s sitting up, watching over them tonight. It’s not actually necessary, because what use would werewolf hearing and banshee screams be if they couldn’t sense, disorient, and eliminate danger coming from miles away? It’s just something Stiles needs to do sometimes: protecting his family as they rest, making sure nothing disturbs their sleep or harms them. 

They’re all exhausted tonight. They’d started meeting at Stiles house lately; it was safer, now that his dad knew, and more comfortable than empty lofts and train depots and houses that were just burnt out shells. Scott is slumped at an angle against the arm of the couch, cradling Allison where she’s resting against his chest. Allison’s bare feet are tucked under Isaac's thigh, who is sprawled against the other arm of the sofa. One of his arms is thrown over the back of the couch, fingers tangled in her hair and resting against Scott’s bicep.

Lydia is laying on the love seat, half curled into herself. One of her hands is hanging over the side, resting against Stiles shoulder. He’s sitting on the floor with his back against the love seat, legs stretched out and playing pillow for Derek. Derek’s resting on his side with his hands tucked under Stiles knee. Stiles prefers to sit on the floor and face the door on the nights he stays awake like this, and he always sits within reach of Derek’s head, so that he can slowly sift his fingers through Derek’s soft black hair.

Honestly, Derek is the real reason Stiles is up worrying tonight. When he returned home, it wasn’t because he wanted to. It was because he had to. They needed him, weren’t quite able to manage without him. Lydia had been the one to finally break the silence and call Derek to ask him to come back. Derek had turned right around one whatever highway he was driving down and came back for them. But Stiles saw the strain it was putting on him. He hid it, did everything his pack asked of him (and more), but he didn’t do anything for himself. Stiles needed to fix that. Being a pillow and hand warmer was the smallest way he could find to repay Derek for all of his sacrifices for the rest of them. Stiles needed to make sure Derek got a night of peaceful sleep, that he felt safe and comfortable enough to relax enough to drop off without twitching awake at every shift or sigh or gust of wind.

Stiles could see Derek disappear a little more every day. He was cutting parts of himself out to make room for other people, giving his sweat and blood and bones to keep them safe. Stiles had to find a way to keep Derek from drying up and fading away. God help him, he had no idea where to start. Out of everyone in his family, Derek needed saving. The others already had at least one person they turned to when they were hurt or upset or needed to forget, just for a night. Stiles wanted to be that refuge for Derek. Wanted to be the one Derek's eyes searched out, the one who stood at Derek's back in a fight and at his side the rest of the time. Stiles wanted to soothe his nightmares and guilt. To have the freedom to pull Derek close and smooth the pain and unhappiness from his face with gentle fingers and whispers and soft kisses. He wanted Derek, plain and simple. For now, giving him some measure of comfort, showing Derek in small ways that he was loved and needed for more than just the protection and guidance he provided would have to be enough.


End file.
